Angels and Blood
by Honor Death and Hangovers
Summary: A simple story about a battered ex-soldier and the man she meets. Riven is far from prepared for the way that events keep turning out of her comfort zone. Wit, adventure, struggle, humor, relationships... more. {I've finished this story and will be updating regularly.}
1. Ganked!

Chapter 1

_Ganked!_

"Comon, let me just see your face a little more."

The man grinned. He was tall, strong, almost charming. He reached toward her hood with one long, beefy arm. Riven was not charmed. She tugged her traveling cloak a little tighter and pulled away as she quickened her step, her eyebrows drawing down. She walked with a worn travel pack bound snugly to her back, the bare part of her legs dusty and scratched below the knees.

"Please, sir," she said with a mild edge of apprehension in her voice. "I've been walking all day and I'm just trying to get to the next village,"

He strode along beside her, his longer legs keeping the pace with ease.

"Oughta be more careful , miss. You're obviously not from around here 'cause taking a path through the woods at night, not safe for a pretty young thing like you."

"You're a long ways from home yourself, Ionian."

Now her speech was terse. The bottom of her sandals shuffled along in the dry leaves, trying to avoid trip-ups in the failing light.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you."

The man smiled again. His eyes, clothing, and the long narrow blade at his side clearly marked him as originating from the eastern island continent of Ionia. He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the toned thighs beneath her skirt.

"It's okay," he said. "I'll get you there safe. I'm a samurai, actually."

She rolled her eyes.

"That's very unlikely."

"Oh, but I've been studying the samurai arts for years! Take a look at my sword." At his

side was a sword of the long, lightly curved shape used by students of the ancient Ionian sword style. "This is my companion, my blade. Come on, slow down and talk to me. What's your name?"

Riven pressed her lips together, hunching her shoulders.

"I just want to get to the village." After a thought she added, "Please."

"Common now," the Ionian man's voice lowered a little as he reached out again, "don't be so rude. You scared to have a little fun?"

Riven tried to pull her arm away from the sudden grip. It was strong! And it did not release.

"Uh!" she whimpered, turning wide eyes on him as her hands clutched the cloak to her chest, "You're hurting me!"

The man's voice lowered a little, "Why so rude?" he struggled with her resisting arm, "Hold still!"

As he tried to pull her closer Riven wrenched herself back with a quick, powerful movement. She tore from the grasp and recovered her balance to strike out down the path. She was fast.

"Heh," without missing a beat he sped after her. "I said hold still!"

Riven's breath huffed as she ran. The path was narrow and winding, but her road-experienced feet picked out the way adeptly. She kept running for almost half a mile, but the man was persistent. She didn't get enough distance to lose him and he slowly began to gain ground. She could hear his curses behind her when suddenly her sandal snapped. Two years she'd worn that thing, and it chose that moment to snap. The sole caught awkwardly under her foot mid-stride and she pitched forward, hitting the dirt. Riven swore softly as she rolled onto her back in a blink, raising her legs as if in defense from the approaching Ionian while at the same time she raised her arms behind her back. Her hands found their mark. She griped tight and with great effort threw every fiber of her body forward, leaping back to her feet as she drew a wide blade from under the cloak on her back. She snapped the heavy blade forward, using the momentum to help right herself. The rune glowed with the same ferocity as her eyes as the man skidded to break his momentum in the path.

"What the hell?" the Ionian flailed to a stop at the tip of her sword, his long hair flying forward as he barely stopped in time.

"Don't e you even try to run," the woman bit out. "Your men will never hear you from here." She stepped up, pressing the sword a little more snugly to his neck. "Bet you wish you stayed with them now."

The eastern man sputtered a little before getting any coherent words out,

"Fucking—bitch- who the hell are you?"

"Hmm, so much for Ionian finesse. Don't you know? I'm here for your bounty."

"You little cunt! I'll cut your tongue out of your mouth!"

In one fluid movement the swordsman drew his elegant weapon and rolled his body around her blade to charge.

"Charming," she smiled, snapping her wrist.

The broad and heavy Noxian blade flashed in front of him with a loud clang. Half of the "samurai" blade sword flew out wide and skittered across the ground a few feet away.

"Disappointing," sighed Rived. "Samurai aren't what they used to be."

Her opponent took precisely one second to sum up the situation and turn tail. A low, dark chuckle escaped the ex-soldier as her red-brown eyes followed him. She bent down, quickly chopped off the remains of her useless shoe, and then darted forward with one bare foot. Riven centered her focus on her target and then with a burst of energy she flashed about seven feet forward in the blink of an eye. Trained, precise, and calm, she resumed her stride seamlessly and began to gain on the man, truly running all-out this time. He was yelling at the top of his lungs for his companions. Riven wondered if he really thought they could hear from this distance, and what he thought they would say if they caught him running from a small woman. Even with the weight of her heavy weapon and pack, her shorter legs closed more distance. But what was that? Movement down the path, rushing towards them. Damn, really? One of his men one of his men had followed them? No matter, Riven redoubled her efforts, knowing she could reach her target before this other unlucky fool joined the fray.

Again she centered her focus and unleashed a series of grand but swift maneuvers: she sprang forward like a gazelle into the air once, twice, three swift leaps until with the third she came right up behind the man and slammed her blade into the ground. There was an explosion of energy and her target was knocked straight up into the air like a rag doll. Perfect shot. Always so satisfying. Riven raised her eyes from her sword just in time to see something very… interesting happen. Right as her target reached the peak of his brief flight, he stopped. Simply hung there suspended in the air, and just as her brain was trying to take hold of this notion another man appeared—just APPEARED in the air beside her target and swung a leg around to kick the living daylights out her bounty's face before both men hit the ground. Her target crumpled to the forest floor while the newcomer landed agilely on the man's back. A strangled yelp was forced from the downed man, and a great plume of ponytail bounced behind the newcomer as he landed on top. Another Ionian, she was almost certain. A man with half his face obscured by a blue cape and tall plate pauldrons on one shoulder was balanced motionlessly on top of her target. He seemed younger, leaner than the other man. His armor was notably more well-crafted, and he was baring a longer, far more dangerous looking sword straight at her. It gleamed, flawless, its tang perfect and its design elegant. To one who lived and breathed swordsmanship, this weapon's presence was nearly tangible. Even at a glance this man was the very image of the ancient and revered swordsmen of Ionia. But out here in the middle of nowhere? She didn't believe it.

"I'll take it from here!" said the newcomer lightly with a sideways smile.

Riven gaped for a fraction of a second before wrenching her broken blade out of the ground and snapping it back up to bare.

"Back the hell off my target," she said. "And explain who you are while you're at it."

On the ground, the man groaned and tried to roll over, at which the caped Ionian simply shifted his weight onto the man's shoulder without taking his eyes off Riven.

"_Your_ target?" he said, frowning a little. "What makes you think you can just walk in and take my bounty?"

"I got here first, Ionian," her voice was low but with an underlying chord of frustration. "This criminal's mine—I don't care what kind of fancy moves you threw out at the last second."

"Well, I'm afraid you're mistaken."

His voice was deep, smooth, with a cavalier note.

"You don't intimidate me," she said. "Prove that you're worth as much as your weapon."

It was at that moment that the downed man made a sudden move, drawing the knife from his belt and swinging back at the younger man's legs. A flurry of movement ensued as the bounty hunter jumped to avoid the blade and came down on top of him in the exact same place again, eliciting a strangled cry from the man. With admirable persistence the knife jabbed at him again, and again, but each time its wielder was rewarded with the full weight of the younger man landing on top of him along with a kick in the face. The prone man snarled and cursed, but the caped Ionian would not give up his perch. He was fast. The man on the ground wailed angrily, "Get off me you fucking monkey!" and tried to roll over, resulting in something of a rolling water-barrel feat.

"Stay _still_! " said the younger man with more annoyance than anything.

He actually kept his sword raised to Riven the whole time. For her part Riven's eyebrows felt like they were reaching record heights on her face. She watched the angry, hissing, cursing criminal roll until he hit the tree, at which point he gave up. Finally the younger Ionian ended by kicking the knife out of his hand and stepping off only to hand the prone man another rough kick to the head.

He shook his head, "I can roll you all the way into the sheriff's office if you want."

"Fuck off," came the groaned response from the ground, at which the unhappy man received a broken nose.

After that he consented to be quiet and stay still. Raising his eyes again to Riven, the newcomer said, "Tricky bastard, huh? Sorry, you wasted your time. This guy's mine. I like that you didn't try to take advantage of this idiot's stunts though."

Riven frowned, her resolve deepening. This was starting to look like a lot of trouble. She may

have had enough honor to keep her from attacking the caped Ionian while he was distracted, but there

was no way she was going to let this guy step in and just take what was hers. Her posture was straight and strong, her demeanor as clipped and orderly as it had been when she was a field commander years ago.

"Look, Mr.," she said, thumping her sword hilt onto her shoulder and walking right up to his

face to poke him in the chest. Or at least as close to his face as she could manage. He was notably tall and she was notably not, "you've made quite a mistake trying to bully me. Back off or you're going to have a lot more trouble on your hands than this little guy is worth."

"LITTLE?" protested the bounty.

The Ionian kicked his quarry again and turned back to Riven, likewise setting his sword on

his shoulder.

"Ah, I doubt that," he said calmly. His manner was laid back, his shoulders relaxed. "Besides,

I've _gotta _bust this guy's ass. He's smearing the reputation of Ionians."

She raised her chin without backing out of his bubble or softening an inch to his casual

demeanor.

"You're BOTH smearing the reputation of Ionians."

"I wouldn't say that."

She quirked an eyebrow, "I'll give you credit for being worthy of a sideshow."

The man only chuckled in response as Riven turned around, walked away a few smooth,

balanced paces, and lowered her sword to bear again.

The Ionian narrowed his eyes and said, "I hope you don't think you're about to—"

CLANG!

She'd spun and closed the gap between them so blindingly fast other warrior's parry came

on reflex alone. But this man's sword did not break. It sang savagely with the ring of metal that had been painstakingly crafted, beaten and folded again and again and again until it reached perfection. Just like hers. They stood sword-to-sword, eye-to-eye, straining against one-another's resolve, until with a final shove they broke away. Riven stood with the activated wall of four protective runes circling her conspicuously. The man's head cocked back a little

"Okay, you've got tricks."

He seemed to enjoy the exchange. Then he was gone. Riven tried to parry but she felt a

sickening sensation as the man suddenly moved THROUGH her blade and body like a ghost, breezing by with a gust of wind that blew her hood back. Her rune wall was destroyed by the move, and it was only years of battle-hardened instinct which caused her to spin in time to parry his follow-up strike from behind.

"Hasagi!" he shouted as she deflected a frighteningly fast forward jab.

The hairs on her arms stood up. Death hadn't come so close to her in a long time. CLANG

CLANG CLANGCLANGCLANG! A flurry of strikes and parries were traded with the speed that can only be achieved between two expert swordsmen. The barest twitch in his expression told her of his surprise at her own movements. She was certainly familiar with that response. It comes from seeing a small, light-framed woman wield a 25 pound blade with enough speed and precision to put the best swordsman on his heels. Her sweeping passes were more brutal, more grand than his, but not unlike his own in style in a fundamental way. His style was smooth, elegant, austerely savage. And that jab had left her a little memento on her finger.

"This is ridiculous! What the hell are you going through all this trouble for? Don't

think I won't cut you down!" she bit out as they faced off again, every fiber of her body in full battle mode.

From the moment she'd encountered the man it was apparent that he was skilled, but she couldn't believe that he was a full-on… _samurai_.

"Kill me?" The man smiled, his gaze flaring with ambition. "You can try."

He really was enjoying this? Damn. Definitely a samurai.

He began to circle around her, edging back towards their bounty {who was sitting up and

watching the exchange with a mix of horror and surprise.}

"Yes," Riven cooed, "and I'll relieve you of that ridiculous hair while I'm at it."

"Keh."

She smirked, eyes moving over the plump plume. "It looks like a vegetable."

The samurai's face contorted a little. "What the-"

That was when Riven shouted her ki word. Her opponent stood locked in position, taking a

painful hit from the ki blast but unable to even move his face, and Riven wasted no time leaping at him. She wouldn't kill him. She'd take his sword-hand perhaps. The savage swing of her blade felt like it hit, but she was startled by the rush of wind that suddenly swept up around the man, scattering the leaves around his feet and deflecting her blade before contact. And it blocked the next leap-strike as well! Damn, he had a shield too?

The wind barrier did not take long to extinguish and she reacted immediately with the

final strike of her charged blade, but suddenly her target was gone. Their bounty yelped in surprise. The samurai had dashed again, leaping towards the sitting man and sparing himself the energy explosion of her sword. The samurai regarded her from several feet away. Riven's mind quickly worked over everything she had seen, and surmised that he seemed to have a blink which he'd used to enter the scene in the first place, a shield, and a dash.

The man backed up a little to pace around her again.

"Well," he intoned casually, seeming to Riven like a coil of white-hot energy beneath a calm

frame, "didn't expect to find a real opponent all the way out here."

Riven tingled. She was surprised. This was a lot of effort she was putting up towards

an unexpected obstacle. But she wasn't angry. The woman lowered her gaze at him; she was ready. She exhaled slowly, her grip tightening on the hilt of her honed blade. Her eyes moved over the dangerous enigma before her. Her body was poised, perfectly balanced, ready to react at the slightest movement lest his relaxation be a ruse. Riven was focused, sharpened in every way. She smiled.

"Neither did I."


	2. Them Chickens Tho

Chapter 2

_Them Chickens Tho_

He lifted his chin slightly.

"Who are you?"

"Who's asking?"

He nodded, "Alright then. Is this the only man you're hunting?"

She shrugged.

"This is a hell of a lot of trouble for a chicken thief."

"A CHICKEN thief?"

This question came from both men simultaneously, leaving Riven to only blink a them. The

younger man tilted his head to the side a little.

"Are you serious?"

"About what? He's my bounty, yeah. A thief."

The samurai narrowed one eye.

"You telling me… you came out here using imbued techniques and swinging a blade like THAT

to catch a… _chicken_.. _theif_?" At her silence the Ionian burst out laughing, and then shook his head, shrugging one shoulder. "How much did they promise you for this gig? 300? 350?"

The tip of Riven's blade lowered as her eyes darted between the two men.

"Four… fifty," she said slowly, frowning.

It was the hunted man who huffed an incredulous protest as the caped Ionian laughed, "Whaaat?

They're trying to bring me in for a shitty 450 coins? That's just bullshit."

the younger man recovered himself enough to lower the tip of his sword to the bounty's chest "Look," he said, and flicked it to slice open the shirt soundlessly, like butter. "See?"

Riven peered closer and her bottom lip dropped a little. There on her lowly theif's chest was a

tattoo depicting three blades arranged in a triangle with a diamond in the middle.

The swordsman spoke again, "This guy is a big-time dealer in the Diamond Blades. Name's Jin

su, goes by Bloody Jin. His specialty is the drug trade and he's wanted for a good 22 counts of murder he racked up along the way. Isn't that right Jin?"

"I've committed no such crimes," said the man, raising his hands. "And I'm ready to apologize

for the chickens we took."

Riven could not believe that they were now both laughing at her. Together. She was not

accustomed to being laughed at, especially without employing the flat of her blade as consequence.

The caped Ionian said,

"I'm bringing him in for 13,000."

Riven controlled her face as that figure sank in, and then her scowl deepened again. "But I… I

did the work! I found him and I'm taking him in! I'll find whoever's offering 13,000 myself."

"Of course you found him!" the man raised his hands. "_Everyone_ up in this part of the

mountains knows where his hideout is. But the only reason he's here is because I lured him out here. Lured him out from the city to here to where he thought he was safe."

From the ground, Jin suddenly spat "What do you mean you LURED me?"

"Get a clue, Jinnie. The Hillsgaurd were never really hunting you. It was just me."

"Bullshit you little—"

"But I drew him away from his men!" Riven raised her voice firmly, "You barely had to fight

anyone! Besides _me._"

"Must have been hard!" said the Ionian, giving his blade an idle spin. "They're all drugged. Oh,

they're all mine too by the way."

"Drugged." She looked at him skeptically, her frustration tightening on her face.

Bloody Jin yowled, "GOD DAMN that's why they all went to sleep so early!"

"Yeah. Clever, I know. Thanks. I've been setting this up for weeks."

"You bastard," growled Jin, "you're the one who's been snooping around our camp like

a fucking ninja."

"Hey!" barked the samurai, smacking Jin's face with the flat of his blade. "I'm no ninja. I'm a

samurai. Know what that is? I guess not because you've been telling people you are one. Now roll over and put your hands together like a good boy." He poked his sword at Riven. "We settled on this, miss?"

Riven merely shook her head slightly, at a loss for words.

"Hey come on," groaned Jin, his tone changing as he slowly rolled over. "You're a fellow

Ionian. Where's your sense of brotherhood?"

The younger man had sheathed his weapon and was taking a rope from a satchel, which he

began to use tobind Jin's hands.

"Shove it up your ass, Jinnie. You're a disgrace to your country."

"Don't call me that! And give me a break, I've got 14 kids!"

"Nice, Cassanova," he pulled the rope tight, making the criminal wince, "Shoulda thought of

that before you knocked up half the village. Oh, by the way," he turned his eyes to Riven, "This

guy's also wanted for something like 500 counts of rape."

"Buncha shit lies!" The man squirmed, trying to look at them over his shoulder, "Most of them were consensual. I can't have more than 10 counts of rape."

"Ahh," the Ionian nodded, "okay. I'll make sure the authorities know that you confessed to twice the number they estimated."

Jin's fists tightened as he muttered,

"Bastard. You're no samurai. Just a fucking ronin."

_Chunk! _A blade suddenly slammed into the ground so close to Jin's nose that it shortened the

hairs on his nose.

"Easy there buddy. There's a still a reward for your corpse," the swordsman's voice said quietly

by his ear.

Jin's possibly-broken ribs got another kick as the hunter stood. Glancing to Riven the caped

Ionian said, over the sound of cursing and wails, "Sorry, lady, sounds like you've been played pretty hard. Can't believe you took a job like that with moves like yours."

One side of Riven's face twitched.

"Work isn't always easy to find, alright?"

Her lips were pressed tight. She had already lowered her blade long ago.

"I guess that's true," he laughed, finishing the binding. "Hey if you're really down, I've got a

horse. I can get you to the next village or wherever."

"Oh, clever," her lips curled up tightly. "I'll bet that works on all these simple village girls.

'Ladies, why don't you let me carry you on my horse? Oh, and look at my huge sword.'"

"Ahah," Laughed the man, "But if either of us is compensating it's you. Oh, I'm sorry, are you a

girl? I can barely tell. Take a shower lady." He thumped Bloody Jin with his foot, "On your feet, scum."

Riven sheathed her blade with swift, clipped movements.

"Well I hope you THUROUGHLY enjoy your bounty, jackass. Lucky for you I'm not going to

lop your head off and take it from you."

With that she turned and began to walk down the path away from them.

"It's a long walk in the dark!" he called after her.

"You better not follow me!" she yelled back, fists clenched, and kept walking with her one bare foot.


	3. Riven Wants to Know Who Writes This Shit

Chapter 3

Riven Wants to Know Who the Hell Writes This Shiet

Riven had been traveling for far too long to get overly frustrated when things don't work out.

But this week had been the worst. Just the worst. In the space of only two days since she'd had her bounty snatched out from under her nose all the following also occurred: She'd had to get rough with the people who her conned her into hunting a dangerous outlaw for pennies; break in a new pair of shoes, which was blistering the hell out of her feet; drink from streams because monster forest rats had chewed a hole in her canteen while she slept; go hungry because the goddam rats ate all her food too; deal with an unusual amount of pestering from village men; search high and low for a spare room because no house or inn anywhere in Narangkot village had one available after she'd walked all the night and on through the next day just to get here; aaaaaaaaaand now, as she pushed through the door of the last inn in town, who should she run in to but...

"You've got to be kidding. Are you following me?"

Seeming to have just walked in ahead of her, the blue-caped Ionian looked down at Riven with

a somewhat startled expression. He had a rice-hat on now.

"Hell no I'm not following you. I'm just looking for a room."

"Can't you look somewhere else?"

"There is nowhere else. I've looked everywhere."

"If there's a room here," she said slowly, leveling a finger at him. "It's. Mine."

"Now, cool your head," he said, raising a hand. "I got here first. Just like I got to Jin first. That's

how life works sweety."

"DON'T call me sweety. And that doesn't mean you're getting to the bar first."

Her sudden momentum in the direction of the bar ended in a jagged stumble. She barely

recovered herself without hitting the ground.

"You bastard!" she spun. "You TRIPPED me? You really are low, aren't you?"  
"Hey, squirt," he raised his hands defensively, "that wasn't me, it was him."

She barely glanced at the man he was pointing at.

"What an ASSHOLE," she bit out, and stepping up to grab the collar of his cape with both fists. Damn, she hated craning her neck up at this guy. She didn't like being called squirt either. "You

wanna take this outside?" His face turned very sour at the contact, a hand lashing out to grip her forearm tightly, but she was unfazed. "I'm more than happy to put you out cold in a ditch," she continued. "You can sleep with the RATS tonight buddy."

"Here's your key."

The sound of those words filtering through the crowd noises drew both of their attentions to the

bar. The innkeep was just handing over a room key to a customer.

"Oh god," she breathed, tearing away from the samurai's grasp to surge in that direction.

She was small and her maneuverability was excellent, but her opponent was fast. He reached the bar at precisely the same moment as she did.

"A room," they said in unison.

The barkeep looked between the two of them. The man and the woman glanced at each other

and quickly added,

"Not together."

"Separately."

"I got here first," added Riven.

"Eh," said the barkeep slowly, "I'm sorry, that other fellow just took the last economy room.

The only thing that's left is the most expensive one. Fireplace, shower, great view, first-rate bed."

"How much?" the two asked, again in unison.

"45."

Riven drummed her fingers on the counter, her face hardening as she let out a frustrated noise.

"Can't afford that," she muttered quietly.

"I'll take it," chirped the samurai.

Riven slowly rolled her eyes over to him with such disgust he merely glanced away, fishing out

his wallet.

"Iiif you want to keep guests there's a fee," mentioned the innkeep.

"NOPE," quipped Riven flatly, looking at the samurai. "I'd rather stay with the pack mules."

The Ionian handed over his payment, saying "Well good. Cause I'm not offering,"

The inn keep rubbed his hands together.

"The stables are full too," he said a little more quietly.

Riven threw her hands up. The inn keep turned to the Ionian and pointed towards a set of stairs

as he handed the key over.

"Up the stairs onto the roof, cross the bridge, and your room is in the building on the other

side."'

Architecture was a unique collage in the Valley.

Riven closed her eyes briefly and let out a breath.

"I need something to drink." She said. "Not alcohol. Water. Juice. Whatever you've got."

"Apple juice?"

"Fine."

A strained noise that sounded like stifled laughter came from the samurai. Riven whipped a

finger in his face.

"NOT A WORD."

Silently he merely raised his hands again. He bit his lips as he pushed off the bar and walked

passed her, tucking away his key. Riven slumped against the bar and pressed two fingers into her temple, looking the opposite direction. She sighed heavily, slapped down a coin, and took her drink.

Damn this bar for being so loud, so crowded. Damn everyone's faces for being so happy as they

bobbed and clapped along to happy music. Damn this festival time of year. She edged into the fray of patrons, breathing body odor and alcohol. To watch her slide her way nimbly through the crowd was an impressive sight. The way she turned and wove her hips, slipped her body through a momentary gap, and pivoted with split-second reaction time to sudden movements, it was akin to the way an infiltrator might avoid a sensor array. She didn't feel impressive though. She felt like an angry crab without a shell to pull in to, just trying not to be touched.

Riven had never been anything akin to a social butterfly. Tonight, however, she was

continuing an especially heavy streak of anti social behavior and she was in no mood to resist. She was especially in no mood for bold hands, and her responses were swift and decisive to the point of injury. Let the poor drunk fools learn the hard way tonight.

Even beyond the thick of the crowd there were no free tables, but she managed to bum the

corner of one off a man. The only man in the room who didn't seem like he felt like talking to anyone. Perfect. Riven seated herself delicately. For a moment she sat straight, sipping her juice, looking around the room and then casting a polite smile at her table mate, {a sleepy cowherd by the looks of it.} But then something in her demeanor changed. One corner of her mouth tugged back in a resigned way and she sighed. The woman propped her chin in her palm, slid her elbow out and stared blankly at the table. She… ACHED. Her feet were in bad shape, begging to be free of her shoes. Her spine and back muscles complained unceasingly. Her shoulders were so tired of her pack. Her mind was filled with the fantasy of a bed in a quiet, dark room devoid of people and minstrels and giant rats.

Nothing mattered. Riven set her jaw. In a life as nebulous and unpredictable as hers,

disappointments were a staple. Finding a quiet alley or a field outside town to bed down in would be just another day in the life. More walking the next day. No problem.

Blearily the young warrioress stared at the five minstrels with their strings, winds, and energetic

joker. They were quite good, actually. As the string-pluckers sang a tale, the joker acted out the story with a mix of dance, pantomime, and clever magic illusions. Almost everyone in the inn was roaring with laughter and clapping along with the music. For a few, seemingly long minutes she sat there, staring not at the entertainers but at the crowd. People drinking, laughing, enjoying the holiday. She thought about times spent in a small bar years ago. It was just off base, within walking distance, and night after night she'd found herself surrounded by a few of her most trusted men in that little bar. Riven had never been one to refuse a drink with her men. She knew how to laugh with them, and she knew where to draw the line. Her leadership style was always firm, but there had been times where she'd nearly fallen out of her chair laughing with those men. Now there was barely a part of her that remembered what it was like to share a good time with people. Even with one person. To laugh so hard her lungs hurt.

Though Riven had intended to get something to eat she found herself sliding off her seat

and making her way back toward the door.


	4. This is Why We Never ff at 20

Chapter 4

This is Why We Never /ff at 20

She purchased a bundle of bread and jerky and shoved it in her bag before going out. Back out on the street, the woman took in a deep breath and sagged as she exhaled. The stars were bright. At least it was a clear night. Rain would not find her, where ever she ended up laying herself down. Even after all these years of sleeping under them, the stars still had a way with Riven. She stepped off the stoop and continued down the street passed the inn, her eyes turned up. For a moment she squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again, a weak smile tugging up at the corners of her mouth.

"No matter what," she said quietly, "my spiri—ungh!"

Riven tried to stifle her voice as she pitched forward and then lay sprawled in the street, her knees screaming, a heavy object at her feet.

"What the heeeeeell," she groaned seeing in the dim street-torch light that it was a pack.

Who left their goddamn saddle bags here on the side of the street? She could hear someone trotting out of the inn stable to her right, and she'd already decided it was this person's fault before he spoke.

"Oops, gotta watch where you're goin miss."

"You've. GOT. To be kidding." She glared at the Ionian as she pulled herself back up. He had an arm full of hay and pieces of it were stuck on him in various places. The large black horse in the closest stall behind him snorted in protest at his distraction. "Don't apologize for leaving your damn pack in the middle of the road or anything," she muttered.

"O-o-h, it's the crab again." To Riven it seemed like those were the most annoying words anyone had ever said. "My pack's not in the middle of the road," he continued. "How did you manage to fall over it?"

"Ugh, asshole."

He didn't miss a beat.

"Hey, I didn't take that room from you, and I didn't take Jin from you. You need to cool off and have a drink."

"That would fix everything wouldn't it?" she knew she needed to refrain from murder and just walk away, so she did. But not without saying, "I'll bet that's how you solve your problems."

He raised his voice a little at her retreating form. "Well you need something fixed!" As she left she heard him mutter, "Damn. Get it together woman."

Her chest clenched. Why? Her fists clenched too. Riven was surprised at herself as she spun and yelled as though she weren't in the middle of the street.

"_What the hell do you know?_"

No. Bad. This was not her. This was stupid. The man was walking back into the stall. He stopped and cocked his head back at her, frowning. After a moment of incredulous appraisal he said,

"You're a mess, aren't you?"

She glared at him. Just, glared. Her fists were tight. Why was her chest so tight? What the hell was happening to her?

"And you've got it all together, don't you?" she said with a quaver.

And then her shoulders curled forward and she broke down. The woman's white hair covered her face and she ducked her head. Only the tiniest, strangled noise came from her throat. She shoved her curled fists against her eyes in mortification.

Her thoughts were on fire, '_GODAMIT WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL?'_

Riven turned away. She wanted to run but she just stood there a little curled over, feeling bewildered. Somehow the thought that stood out to her was: how, after eight years of rigorous military service and five years of rugged wandering, had she ended up here, like this? _Like this? _The thought was so vivid and poignant, as though she'd already been absorbing it on a subconscious level. It made her feel that somehow she'd been expecting this. With effort the soldier began to walk slowly.

_'Just walk. Just walk.'_

To her surprise she heard that voice again, near her shoulder.

"So, life's a bitch huh?"

Riven kept walking resolutely and drew in a slow, wavering breath,

"I would thank you... to leave now."

She could hear his nearly bare feet padding along softly beside her.

"You know if you were smart you could get a room with someone easy. Even if you aren't smart."

"Your advice is _most _appreciated," she bit out and turned her face in the opposite direction. "But I'll leave that to you and your whores."

"Damn," he fumbled with the hay pile, trying to keep chunks from slipping. "Come on, I've got a bed. Just take it."

"Wh-_no_."

"Don't be ridiculous. It's not like you have anywhere else to go. Let me toss this hay in the trough and I'll show you the room."

The man turned and walked back towards the stalls. Riven didn't know how to react.

"No!" she called after him.

"You're going to turn down a free bed?" he called back from within the stalls.

"Ugh, _look_! I'm... I'm not going to share a BED with you!" She rubbed her palm across her face again, trying to dry it quickly.

"Doesn't make a difference to me_. _Didn't say _share_ a bed though."

Riven rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure you weren't thinking it." She didn't even have the energy to snap as she turned slowly away again. "I hate people who pretend to care."

After a moment he reappeared, brushing hay off himself.

"I'm not pretending. I don't care. But tell you what: I'm going in there, and I'm going to pay the inn keep the fee for an extra person." Her steps paused. "If you decide that a bed sounds better than an alley, then just come to the roof, huh?"

"Don't do that!" she said, slightly surprised.

"I'm doing it. You do what you want."

The samurai turned and began to walk towards the bar. He had kind of a nonchalant swagger.

"Don't!"

"I am."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Roof of the inn. I'll be there."

He opened the door to the noisy bar and disappeared into the fray. Riven stood there, arms crossed, twisting her fingers in her shirt.

"Presumptuous, ass-chasing..." she muttered in slight disbelief.

Riven paced rigidly down the road. Her hand made a last pass over her eyes, drying the last of her emotional outburst away. She hated that moment of weakness more than anything. Mortification. Regret. And, god... the _men _out here on the road. She used to give men orders. Now they were all either too scared to look at her or propositioning her at the drop of a hat as though traveling alone made her a desperate slut.

She kept walking. She slowed. She stopped.

"What's wrong with him?" she muttered again, very quietly.

How long she stood in the road, she didn't know. She wasn't paying attention. Then, slowly, one foot moved back.

–

Riven had to rankle with the barkeep a little. The black-bearded man tried to insist that if he was going to give the guest fee back to anyone it had to be to the man who gave it. But she was in no mood for bullshit, and the ferocity in her red-brown eyes almost didn't need the massive hilt of the sword on her back, nor the tightening muscles of her athletic body to back them up. At last she snatched the coin back. Riven shuffled quickly up the steps in the back, muttering. She was on the roof before she picked up on the gentle, lilting notes of a wind instrument. It may have been somewhere in the same family of the instruments that the minstrels in the bar below were using, but it sounded a world apart from their bouncing tunes. She continued up the steps a little more slowly. Atop the roof everything but the flute was quieter. She saw the wood bridge crossing over the streets to the guest housing. As she walked it, the silhouette of a man atop the flat roof of the guest houses came in to view. That was him, for sure. The ponytail cut out clearly against the stars. And obviously it was he who was playing the admittedly haunting notes of an eastern flavored melody. If nothing else, he was definitely an Ionian.

As soon as she stepped foot over the bridge the music stopped. She had to climb another set of stairs to get up to where he was. He was seated cross legged on the far edge, his back to her. He lowered the wooden flute.

"Didn't expect you to come back," he said, and then turned an eye on her.

Riven approached.

"I came to make you take this." She tossed the coin on the ground near him.

"Huh," he let out a dry laugh and looked at it.

Riven turned away, and then pivoted half-way back.

"I'm _not _helpless. This is just the week from hell, understood? And that's more than you deserve to know."

Her feet made it two steps back down.

"Hey."

She gritted her jaw at the sound of his voice and paused again. What the hell? Why didn't she just _walk away _like normal?She turned enough to see him. The man's head was turned further back over his shoulder, looking at her. Riven raised her hands.

"What?"

"Come here."

It wasn't a rude or demanding tone. Another pause.

"Why?"

"You could sit."

Riven sighed very deeply.

"Why would I do that, samurai?"

His eyebrows twitched down very briefly.

"Because." He turned his head back to the landscape in front of him and waved a lazy hand. "Look at it."

She looked off at the mountains and trees below.

"It's just the land."

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"No."

Tiredly she looked again. Naragkot was a town on the edge of a valley in the vast Ironspike Mountain range, on the northern reaches of Valoran. It was nestled up high into the forest overlooking a massive green swathe in the earth. Looking out from here one's view was filled with a vast, inky field of stars. Below and behind them was the street and the town, and before them the world. The sounds of merrymaking emanated faintly from many homes and inns. Up here, though, you could hear the wind and the nightly insects.

"Did you trip me?"

A corner of his lips tugged back slightly.

"What, in the tavern? No. You just let that guy go."

Riven's feet moved and she stood beside him on the edge. Her shoulders sagged. She bit her lip. Ionian. His clothes, the large rope around his waist, his hair, his armor, his sword, even the way he sat all reminded her of the place. Riled up memories that she was so tired of trying to put to rest. Almost as if too add to the impression, he removed a bamboo flask from his belt and made a small proffering noise as he lifted it to her, "Hm?"

"No."

He tilted back the flask and took a swig, and then asked, "Do you ever relax?"

"No."

The man chuckled softly and then there was quiet between them. It was a quiet that Riven was not at all eager to break. The insects chirped and the stars twinkled and she stared out at it. Wind moved by, stirring her white hair and she pulled her cloak closed.

"You're Ionian, right?"

"Mhm. What gave it away?"

"What didn't give it away?"

"Heh," he chuckled. "I guess you could say that." He rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw. "Though you might be surprised at how many people are confused about me."

"Your song..." Riven grimaced a little before admitting, "was more suited to my mood than the music they're playing down there."

He nodded. "And mine."

The man seemed entirely peaceful. Riven looked down and rubbed her neck.

"It's been a long time since I heard the Lullaby of Takeda."

As expected he looked suddenly at her.

"What, you've been to Ionia then?"

"A little." She then added flatly, "I don't know what the words mean. I just recognize the tune."

"What did you think of my homeland, then?"

That wasn't really where she meant to steer the conversation.

"It was a long time ago. It was... beautiful."

He pinned her with a skeptical look as he took another swig from his flask.

"Were you there for a funeral?"

She'd tried to keep the heaviness out of her voice, but she must have failed. She was tired.  
"Ah, no." Her brain stuck, but she managed to say. "Business." Riven didn't like the way he continued to look at her so she quickly added, "You should play another."

A slow smile spread over his lips.

"No. I don't play for an audience."

"Fine," she sighed, even as she crouched beside him. "I don't care."

"I'll tell you what the words of the lullaby mean, though. The song is about... the life of a peasant girl. She's sad." Riven looked at him soundlessly as he lifted his eyes, thinking "She's young and her family is poor so she has to leave her house to work for a rich family."

"So she misses home."

The man nodded.

"Yes. She looks over the mountains and longs for home."

Riven rolled her eyes. Not at him, but at herself. She couldn't believe her inclinations, but, well, since she seemed to be getting into the habit acting crazy...

"Look, I'm... exhausted. And don't know... who the hell you are or if you're a good man or what but... maybe you're a good enough man to share a room with. For a night."

There. Good enough.

"Huh. Okay, fine." Thank goodness he seemed to accept it easily enough. And then, eying her casually he added, "But don't misunderstand. I'm not at all a good man. Virtue is no more than a luxury and I don't give a damn about you."

Riven frowned a little.

_"Good. _I've come a long way on my own. One thing I don't need is your pity."

He nodded.

"Well, I don't think I need to kill you. And if you don't feel like you need to kill me, then I don't see any reason why you shouldn't have a bed." He took in a breath and raised hs hands, "I _do _know how to sleep on a floor."

Riven's eyebrows went up a little with a small smile.

"Well of course I see a lot of reasons to kill you." He glanced at her and she added, "But. I won't act on them."

"Maybe another time."

"Perhaps." Riven finally sat on the ground and pulled her knees to her chest, her stark hair moving again. She decided to make herself a little more acquainted with the stranger. "Why would you leave Ionia?"

He seemed not to have expected the question.

"Well. Everyone makes mistakes right?"

Her eyes moved up to him again.

"Heh. I won't ask yours if you don't ask mine." After a pause she added, "Best not to ask questions at all, actually."

The way he met her suggestion with silence said something before he did.

"Am I not to know where you're from?"

She raised her eyebrows.

"Why does that matter?"

"Well. It's difficult to close your eyes on someone if you don't know where their loyalties lie." Ah yes, of course. He really did know this life. At once the dark cloud of all things that were Riven's history made a pass over her mind. She hugged her knees a little tighter. She would still sleep in the alley if she had to. She'd done it enough times before.

At the repeated silence he looked at her and frowned.

"I was hoping there wouldn't be an issue."

"I don't want to talk about things like that," she said. "I'm sorry I asked about you."

Dammit. The fact was the she ought to been prying him in the same way. Riven was a hunted woman and the best assassin hides in plain view. She knew that. But she didn't want to ask questions. She didn't want to know why his shoulders carried that edge of tension, or where that shadow in his elegant face came from. She wanted it to be simple. She wanted to sleep. At that moment she didn't even want to know what kind of man he really was, or how many kills it had taken to give him that steady confidence. "I just don't."

The two of them sat in silence for a while. At length the man touched the hilt of his long blue scabbard, where her eyes were now sitting.

"If you leave this sword completely out of your mind then I will do the same for you."

The relief she felt showed.

"Oh yes? I... really appreciate that. Uhm. Thank you."

"Just don't let me find you trying to get a blade in my back, or you'll never lift a blade again."

"Heheh," her laugh was sardonic, "I won't stab your back, I promise. Not unless you try mine first."

"That's fair." After a thought he asked, "I don't suppose I'm to know your name either?"

She sighed.

"I'm not feeling very creative or I would give you one to call me."

"Then I should give you one."

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"Well..." she tilted her head, "okay, fine. Give me one."

He rubbed that scruff again and eyed her.

"You know? Somehow you remind me of that carrot-looking weed that grows all along the path."

Her response could not have been less enthusiastic.

"Carrot-looking weed."

"Yes, with the white flowers. It's a hearty thing, actually. Angel lace."

Riven blinked a few times.

"It's called angel lace?"

"Yes. Or, just Angel?"

The woman recoiled her head a little and shook it.

"I can't think... of a more inappropriate name for me."

He smiled.

"Angel."

She rubbed a hand over her face and groaned softly, "Oh, god."

"Angel, what will you call me?"

"Satan."

"I forbid it."

She laughed.

"I don't know. Samurai. Shall I call you that?"

"Well, I..." he seemed to suddenly struggle for a response.

Riven nodded.

"You're not a samurai."

"I... used to be."

Ah, a kindred spirit. No wonder he'd lashed out at Jin so hard for labeling him as he did. She would not even raise the idea of calling this man "Ronin;" it would be the same as if he decided to call her "Exile." But to her surprise it was him who suggested that very thing.

"Why not? Call me Ronin."

"No," she shook her head.

"I don't see why not. It's the truth."

Riven bit her lip just a little.

"...Ronin."

"Angel."

"What does it matter?" she shrugged. "Just for a night."

Ronin nodded.

And, with that, the angel and the ronin got up and walked to their room. After Riven returned the guest fee to the inn keep of course. That was embarrassing.

/

The Lulaby of Takeda: watch?v=B27yQMuTHWc


	5. No Need to Ward the River Tonight

Chapter 5

No Need to Ward the River Tonight

When she showed back up with the money the barkeep gave her that look that she knew he was going to give her. But she could only bite her lip, shrug, and smile sweetly. Riven didn't really know how to "work that," per se, but she does have an effective smile at times. Enough that, in fact, that the man could not help but return a lopsided smile despite himself.

"Fine, fine," he took the money and waved her away.

Riven grabbed her pack out of the holding room and trotted back up stairs. Though her brain was a fog there was scarcely a waking moment when the ex-commander was not on some level observing, calculating, summing up the situation, going over details. The thoughts streamed through her mind in a vaguely orderly manner: sleeping under a roof; don't have to go back out looking; stranger. Man. Ionian. Sword. _Sharing a room with an Ionian man. _Sharing a room with a man. A _man... _Bed. No rats. Beeeeed.That sword. A sword no less common than hers. Ionia. Her past. How would he react? What if he knew? Was this safe? Guilt. No, push away the guilt. She was going to sleep under a roof tonight. Off the cold, damp ground.

But the thoughts of Ionia were always hardest to push away. If anything, her development over the years had made those memories an increasingly burdensome wound. How blindly she had believed. Riven's silhouette paused against the stars on top of the roof. 'That wasn't me,' she told herself. 'I'm different now. Ionia has nothing to do with me.' Would this samurai think the same if he knew? Whether or not he would Riven squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, shook her head, and then trotted across the bridge. At the door handle she paused again, one finger resting against it. An old worn handle with a large keyhole. She closed her eyes and knocked.

"Yeah," said that laid-back voice faintly from inside.

"He'll never know," she mouthed silently, and then pushed in.

Riven stepped across the threshold and rubbed her hands over her arms. Bent over the coals of a small fireplace, Ronin was building up new flames with fresh wood.

"Come in," he said without looking.

Ever since she'd broken her blade and taken the first steps of this long, long road out of Purgatory, Riven had scarcely accepted any kind of charity from anyone. And even though the inn keep had called it his best room, Riven was surprised at the luxury she encountered. These little inns in the valley tended to be very basic, and basic was what she was used to. But this was nice. Comfortable, cozy.

With effort she lowered her arms. The woman stood straight, solid, subtly projected her chest in a posture of strength. That was better. No more insecurity; this was what felt normal and right to her. Ready, calm. If she could ever forget that moment of weakness out in the street it wouldn't be too soon. Just as she was about to claim a spot by the fire, the ronin straightened on his knees, glanced back at her and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the bed.

"Your bed," he said, wiping the back of his hand over his brow before setting a last log on the fire.

"I know that's what you said, but it's out of the question," Riven unslung her pack and bent over to work out of her one iron grieve. "I mean to take the floor." And then it occurred to her to say, "Thank you, though."

"Don't be silly. " He eyed her in a sidelong way, "You're getting a room from me. The least you can do is lay down where I tell you to."

Riven gave him an odd look. Somehow her cotton brain couldn't formulate a response. Instead, feeling oddly off balance, she bent down again and removed her sandal. What had happened to the days when she spoke and scores obeyed?

Finally the footwear was off, and her entire body sagged with an inaudible sigh.

"I'm grateful for a room" she said finally. "I don't need your bed."

"That's my decision."

His flat reply showed no concern for her opinion. Riven looked at the bed. It looked... amazing. While her concentration was on it, the man's eyes briefly studied her barefoot form standing by the door as she slowly unbuckled her shoulder guard. Her feet were road-dusted up nearly to the knee. They showed angry red spots in some places, one with large unmistakeable welts along the side.

"I'll find a tap outside," she said, noticing his eyes.

"Hold on," he stopped her in mid-turn and pointed at a door on the far side of the room.

"A bathroom?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Mhm."

She smiled just a little.

"Oh. I was getting used to the rustic qualities of this valley."

"Yeah, well, it's still nothing like the city but you can take a bath."

The suggestion triggered a dubious look from her.

"I... don't know if that would be appropriate to do here."

"Huh." He frowned. "If it's not appropriate to take a bath in a bathroom then where the hell is it appropriate?"

"Well, I only intended to sleep..." Riven eyed the door to the bathroom and then glanced at him and took in a breath. "Oh well," she shrugged, "Sure. Good."

He nodded in mild amusement, seeming to grasp her discomfort at the mere idea of undressing in the same vicinity as a man. After removing the rest of her armor she took some clothes into the little tiled room and closed the door. The door was solid, as her wary eye confirmed. There was a toilet on one end and a large basin of standing water with with a tap and dipper on the other. To the side was a sink and a mirror. There was no shower or bath, just a drain on the floor. This was typical shower room in the valley. What made it nice was that this one was spacious and clean. Riven peeled off her well-used clothes and left them where they fell. Her normal habit was almost always to leave her clothes folded while she was bathing, but not this time. Twisting the tap she found that there was no hot water, but she was quite used to that. Her weary arms reached out under the stream of the tap, washing away sweat and dirt. The frigid mountain water raised bumps all over her body, but she filled the dipper and dumped it over her head with barely a shiver. Her stark white hair clung to her neck. It was a relief to be able to take off her clothes in an enclosed space. Bathing in a river was not the most comfortable thing. Usually she bathed at night, struggling to see, watching for snakes.

Straightening for a moment, Riven glanced at her reflection and then took another look. The woman standing there without her armor and massive sword seemed thin and small. Her cheek bones looked more hollow than they ought to have been. Even her belly was a bit too shrunken in. Leaning closer she frowned with displeasure and saw that her eyes were slightly red. Dark circles clung beneath. Had she been like this when she was still a Noxian master on the fields of battle? There had been so many challenges in that time. Long nights, hard decisions, bad food, responsibility that could effect her entire country. And the brutal challenges of battle. But had she felt like this?

Riven suddenly craved the camaraderie of her men so badly that she felt immobilized. She wondered of any of them still held the respect for her they once had. How many now saw her as merely the one who betrayed their loyalty and broke their faith? Traitor. Coward. Exile. How many knew she had done this for them?

The sink was smooth and white. She stared at it for long moments.

"Damn this," she whispered at it. "I'm fine."

Riven wetted a cloth a cloth and wiped it over her neck and face. She scrubbed her entire body thoroughly—who knew when one might be able to bathe again? It seemed like a long time before she had finished washing herself. She threw her clothes in a bucket and washed them too. There was a long white shirt she kept for when her clothes were drying and, occasionally, for when she was sleeping indoors. Riven tiptoed out of the bathroom wearing this and carrying her washed-and-wrungs. She was grateful for the warmth of the fire that greeted her. The man looked so cozy in front of it with his blanket and kettle that Riven smiled a little.

Quietly she hung her clothes on the windowsill to dry.

"I'm steeping tea if you'd like some," said he.

Ronin had cracked open one eye to look at her. His heavy plate-armor was set aside and his sword was laid down right beside his bed, the same way she laid hers at night.

She raised her eyebrows.

"You have an extra cup?"

"Uhuh."

"Huh. Uhm. Yes. Thank you," she nodded cordially. "that would be nice."

As she finished hanging her clothes Riven looked at his pack where it was leaned up against the wall. Very similar to hers: compact, well-worn, repaired in places with a knowing hand. She had no doubt that every item in his pack was strictly necessary and served multiple purposes. He might have been as used to the road as she was.

"You pack very light but carry an extra mug?" she asked.

He had sat up and was leaning forward for the kettle.

"Well. You never know."

Ronin's eyes followed the stream of hot water moving into the cup.

"You never know if one will break?" she asked with a slightly skeptical expression.

He tapered off the stream with the tips of his fingers pressing against the spout, and then moved to the other cup.

"You never know when you'll have the chance to share."

Hmm. She eyed the man as she moved over to take a seat on the blanket beside him.


	6. Stupid Nosy Ronin is Stupid

Chapter 6

_Stupid Nosy Ronin is So Stupid_

Riven stretched her thin fingers towards the flames for warmth. Something in the way he moved and sat reminded her deeply of Ionia. What was it? A kind of trained smoothness to the movements; the way he placed one hand beneath the cup and one hand on the side as he handed it to her. A lift in his chin and carefulness of the posture that indicated that the pride of the old code remained with him even as he relaxed. Whether or not he was a ronin, to Riven he still seemed to have all the pride of a samurai.

For a long time the two sat in silence, and Riven sighed deeply as she watched the fire. He allowed her to heat more water so she could soak her feet, and sitting there beside the quiet stranger with her feet in a steaming basin, Riven decided that the rooming situation was... not so bad after all. It had been so long since she'd relaxed in the evening with a cup of tea, and this tea was actually very good. It was fragrant and smooth with not even a hint of sour. A little milk would be perfect.

"I miss tea," she said at length. When he glanced at her she added, "Gave it up when I hit the road, I guess."

The man tilted his head at the fire and shrugged one shoulder.

"You need to hold on to some things."

Riven turned an eye on the him. From the edge of her visions he looked him up and down.

_'They won't let you go home either, will they?'_

Though the evidence was not exactly conclusive, she realized it with conviction.Not just a shamed warrior, but an exile. She didn't believe that he'd left his country willingly, rather he'd been hunted. It was in his shoulders, and in his eyes. It was in the way his fingers lingered so habitually near the hilt of his weapon. How bad had his crimes been? Her prying eyes must have made him uncomfortable because he said,

"The hell happened to your feet, anyway?"

She felt a little embarrassed to be caught staring. Hopefully he didn't realize she was going back on her promise to forget his sword.

"Oh. I don't suppose you noticed I had one bare foot when I met you the first time?"

He nodded, "I did, of course."

"Well," she rolled her eyes upward, "I had to buy a new sandal and it's taking some time to break in. Of course it would, on a week like this."

He smiled.

"What, was I the only bright spot in your week?"

She gave him a long suffering look.

"You were only the tip of the ice burg, really."  
For some reason the man seemed to take an interest in this. Riven insisted that she didn't want to complain about things, but he kept nudging clues out of her until the woman finally consented to sharing a few details of her week. Hunger, thirst, sleeplessness, troublesome men. He didn't say much but she could tell he didn't seem satisfied with her response. As though he was disregarding her troubles for nothing.

There was silence again, during which Riven's attitude did not fair well. In fact, it slowly soured further and further. She glowered at the man. The weakness she felt he must perceive in her was so frustrating. Riven set her chin in her palm and ignored Ronin, beginning to think about bed. She kept thinking about bed. Thinking about tomorrow. Thinking about her supplies. But she was not thinking about her supplies. She was thinking about how frustrated she was. When she finally confronted him about his disregard he merely said,

"These are things merely another challenge to a person like you. _They_ don't cause you to break down in the street. Or am I wrong?"

Riven's eyes narrowed at him a little in surprise. And when he returned her gaze she turned hers to her knees. Her throat felt tight again. In the silence her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt, and then she pulled her knees up closer. She didn't know what to say, so she just said the truth.

"Yeah. You're right." Her voice was quieter, but cold. "The fact is I let a man die this week."

Again there was silence. Ronin did not urge her or comment, he merely watched her small form. Riven took in a deep breath.

"He tried to be kind to me, and I let him be killed by a shit little gang of thieves, for godssake."

"How did that happen?"

And then Riven told the samurai a story. She explained how a certain villager, an older man, had noticed her being harassed by a few men in a place several town back down the road. They were just drunk, making lewd comments and such. Nothing serious. But this fellow had found it unacceptable and chased the stupid youths away. After that he had insisted on traveling with her to the next town. He had been traveling anyway: a vender with a donkey and a stock of wine to peddle. But he wanted to protect Riven, and so she'd let him. She'd been touched. And she'd been so encouraged at this small gesture at a time when she really needed it.

"I should never have let him come with me." Her voice was hard. She shook her head, drawing her shoulders up, "I don't know why I let him come."

Her roommate sat with his eyes on the flames now. He breathed in and nodded a little, saying nothing. When she spoke again her voice was even quieter, but no less hard.

"Thieves followed us from the village. They see the sword and they think I have money." She steepled her fingers over her nose and then slid her hands up over her face. "They came up and night, and they killed him." The anger lacing her voice was raw. "They didn't care. They just cut his throat. I couldn't protect him." The last words faltered off a little.

Still Ronin did not speak. The woman opened her eyes, her fingers pressing the temples of her bowed head. She snarled, "Five of them. I killed them all."

After a moment the samurai shook his head.

"Let someone get in between you and your enemy?" he took in breath. "That's quite a screw up."

This time Riven was really at her limit

"How can you say that?" she snapped. "What the hell_ is _wrong with you?"

"Well." He looked at her. "If you don't deserve to carry that blade then you shouldn't."

"What? God, you really know everything don't you?" she pulled her feet out of the warm water, setting the mug down beside her. "You haven't seen the sacrifices I've made. I've... poured my _life _out with that blade!"

"So you think you deserve to carry it?"

"Yes."

He raised his eyebrows.

"_Do you?_"

"YES."

"Then accept that there will always be times when you fail." With an upraised hand he quickly cut off the angry words welling in her face. "But that's going to happen. That's the life of a warrior. If you're really a warrior all that means is now you're going to get stronger. Smarter. You'll never let that same mistake happen again, right?"

She looked at him, shoulders tense, and swallowed. When she finally found her voice it was barely there.

"...Yeah."

"Good. You've avenged his death." Ronin turned his gaze to the fire again, "That's all you can do for now."

As Riven looked at the man's profile, her shoulders slowly sagged. The young woman's eyes were drawn to the floor in front of her. With the back of her hand she wiped away the hot moisture that was blurring her vision, and then studied the grain in the floorboards again. She listened to him speak, "Angel. Don't keep trying to convince me you're strong if you've forgotten it yourself."

She hadn't noticed that he was looking at her again. Riven swallowed, turned her face away towards the window, and closed her eyes. In her earlier years this statement probably would have angered her, but time teaches one to listen. She stared at the stars outside and wondered where her old, fiery resolve had gone. Her sharp emotions had drained away, leaving her exhausted again.

_'I knew my purpose.'_

Riven pressed her lips together and forced herself to look at the man. She looked him in the eye and held his gaze, then raised one eyebrow, "You're a man of surprises, aren't you?"

He smiled and shrugged and then looked at the fire. She continued to study him. There was a scar over the bridge of his nose, and another carved into his chest. Many other, fainter lines traced his body all over, just like her own. Despite herself she was staring at him again. She stared hard. He made no protest.

At length Riven opened her mouth, "I should sleep."

He nodded.

"Yeah, so should I."

She looked down, and then back at him, "Are... you traveling tomorrow?"

"Yes. Towards Japakot."

"Me to. I suppose we'll pass each other."

"You could ride."

"No," she shook her head quickly, and then her lips bent up in a faint smile. "I just... want to walk."

"Your choice," he shrugged, "but those blisters are going to kill you."

"They won't kill me."

As she got to her feet he huffed a small laugh and shook his head.

"Stubborn one huh?"

"I've been called that more than once."

Riven slipped into the bed. It was soft. In fact it swallowed her attention as she sank down into its fluffy rapture. As much as she'd tried to grow a distaste for soft, conforming sleeping surfaces, had tried to favor the austere embrace of forest floors and thin, hard cots, Riven groaned with pleasure as she was engulfed by this bed. A bit more loudly then she'd meant to, actually. She felt a tinge of heat in her face at the snicker she was almost sure she heard in response.

_'Shut up, dammit. You're a stupid nosy ronin and you don't understand.'_

Then, as she settled, she slowly smiled. She knew he probably did.


	7. Blood Trees

Chapter 7

_Blood Trees_

At first light, when she'd nudged his shoulder to tell him she was headed out, he'd merely curled up a little and grumbled something incoherent. Riven laughed under her breath, set a scrap of paper on his face that read "_Thanks. Maybe you were right._" and walked to the door. She paused on the way out and glanced back at him.

"I wonder who you are," she said softly.

And she left.

The way through the Iron Spikes was not easy. This crossing would take her through its lowest points, but still the path ascended at 45 degree angles at times. She was not taking the eastern pass which came out right above Noxus, but a different path. Parades of sure-footed pack-mules passed periodically, hailing their own approach with the steady _bank bonk bank _of their neck bells. The path was not too narrow but still she would stand to the side and watch them pass to enjoy the spectacle if nothing else. She nodded at the herdsman as they headed up the rear. Often it was a mountain-man and his son, encouraging the herd on with shouts of "Hep! Hephep!" and a sapling switch. In the past Riven would sometimes walk a few miles with the herdsmen for company and conversation, but not today. Today she was snail-like in her progression, stopping far more often than she liked to relax her angry feet.

Still, she couldn't have picked a better place to be slow. It was a clear day, and ever to her right and front the Iron-Spikes loomed in shameless glory. Massive. Rugged. Blazing white snow glinting in the noonday sun. Those slopes always offered a silent dare to the fearless and the foolish, and some part of Riven listened with curiosity. The rest of her was damn glad that her path would not take her that high. Currently she was still a good ways below the treeline. Always flanking her left side, the trees stood where they had flourished vibrantly for many years.

Up here the twisted, knotted trees were considered a treasure, and had not been cut in centuries. Other varieties had been thinned out for fuel and construction, leaving those ancient behemoths to flourish and become more massive. In fact the festival which currently had every village along the way in an uproar had something to do with them. The most impressive thing about them was the color: they were a mass of flaming crimson leaves so vibrant that they covered the mountainsides like waves of blood. It was incredible to behold.

A spectacle was said to take place somewhere during this festival. So she was told, the red forest would suddenly shed every leaf all at once. The trees seemed so poised in their twisted, balanced shapes. Like giant bonsais, like sculptures. Somehow they reminded her of adorned warriors before a battle: proud, perfect, strong, undefeated. Yet it was inevitable that sooner or later, in a mere moment, that great canopy would shatter.

Sun rays cut down in shafts through the leaves, which were delicate and ruffled like flowers. The _sound _of the place was worth noting. They were the barest, most elemental sounds: wind, the leaves, birds, occasionally water, but the great forest captured the echoes beneath its high canopy in a way that was ethereal. Riven thought it was kind of like a dream. Other-worldly and beautiful.

The chorus was only broken by the occasional mule caravan and the last of the holiday travelers headed for Narangkot. There were not many people traveling her direction, but there was a horseman.

"You look ridiculous," came the voice from behind.

Riven stopped, turned a raised eyebrow up at him. Rice-hat, scruffy chin, cocky smile. Looking considerably more fresh than when she'd left him that morning. The corner of her mouth tugged back.

"I hope you don't bother every traveler you pass."

"Nah, just the ones who are limping along like an injured turtle."

"How considerate," Riven turned and kept walking.

"I like to poke them with sticks."

The woman was surprised to feel a prick on her shoulder and turned to see him holding, indeed, a stick.

"You've got to be kidding. I really do need a guard dog."

Again she walked, and the heavy hoof beats took up behind her again.

"Hey lady, why don't you let me take you for a ride? By the way," he edged his animal in front of her to present the long blue scabbard at his side, "I've got this huge sword."

Riven's mouth opened as she rolled her eyes to the side, trying not to smile.

"_Oh the temptation._"

"Come on Angel, just get on this horse."

Angel. What a name.

"I think I'm doing pretty good, thanks."

He sighed, removing the hat to brush a hand over his hair.

"Good luck reaching Jagarkot before next week. You should know how to take care of yourself before you try to cross the Iron Spikes."

Jagarkot was the next town along the way to Jilmilikot.

"You jack-ass." She said passively, and waved him away, "I've been taking care of myself for four years. And I don't need your help."

He smiled.

"Four years and you're still trying to walk on three-inch blisters?"

"None of them are that big."

"I'll bet they are by now."

Now Riven sighed.

"No. And I'm walking, Ronin. Thanks though. I do appreciate the gesture."

"Angeeeeel."

She did have her pride.

"No. I thought you didn't give a damn?"

"I don't. But when you die in the road it will be a dishonor to me."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"It's my culture."

She rolled her head to the side.

"Yeah right. Well your culture is stupid."

Sharing a saddle was not as uncomfortable as she'd imagined. It was easier that continuing to verbally battle a pesky samurai, as she had for more than 15 minutes. While making every effort to maintain a perfect, even stride. It also wasn't quite as _intimate _as she'd feared. Riven didn't find the need to weirdly wrap her arms around him for any reason, holding the back of the saddle instead.

"Better, right?" he asked.

His broad back was in her face, but at least he didn't smell bad.

"Okay, okay Ronin. You already won. Be quiet now."


	8. Horse and Hair

Chapter 8

_Horse and Hair_

"Never let it be said that I gave bad advice," said the samurai.

The big horse didn't even seem to notice the extra weight as they made their way along the path. Riven sighed, admittedly glad to watch the scenery pass her without effort.

"You seem like a rider," he spoke again.

She rubbed her heels lightly over the animal's warm flanks.

"Yeah. I used to ride." Then, after a moment. "Where'd you get a Demacian charger?"

"Should I tell you that?"

She huffed a laugh.

"Thaaaat you got him off the black market in Zaun or Bilgewater?"

"Ah, that I _earned _him off the black market in Bilgewater. It's not easy to get a horse like this."

"Uhuh. Well. Where there's a will there's a way in Bilgewater."

He nudged a shoulder up, turning his eyes to the sky.

"If you can stay alive long enough, yeah."

She was just about to speak again, but then he turned his head and she had to shove away his considerable mass of hair instead, complaining, "God, you're gonna knock me off."

"Hahah-ow! Be careful with that!"

Though both seemed entirely comfortable with silence, somehow they kept talking for another hour or so.

"Owow, hey-ow-hey!"

The man swatted back at Riven, who had begun trying to pick out his hair tie with bent determination, but she didn't really know how to get the thing out.

"You've gotta take it down, Ronin," she said flatly. "It's like wrestling a bear."

"Okay, fine!" He succeeded in swatting her away and growled, "Just let me do it properly."

He pulled the tie out with one swift move and all that mass plopped down to brush the saddle. This was much easier.

'_Like a damn _waterfall_,' _she thought with some strange mix of admiration and incredulity.

When there came a fork, Ronin fished out his rumpled map even though Riven insisted that continuing down the main path would take them the shortest way.

"The man who made this map," explained Samurai, "told me there was a worthwhile detour around here. Yeeeeah, see?" he pointed up along the ridge that climbed up high over their path. "Looks nice. There's gotta be a view."

"Looks _longer_," Riven squinted up at it.

"Yyyup." He eyed the map again. "Quite a bit. But it will be good."

"That sounds logical."

He ignored her sarcasm.

"This guy told me it's fine for horses." He shielded his eyes from the sun. "So once we get up there we can go faster along the cliff."

"Faster along a cliff huh?"

"_Yeah." _He raised an eyebrow at the doubt in her voice. "Don't you wanna feel the wind? Or... would that scare you?"

Riven shifted in the saddle.

"You wish."

She wouldn't tell him how long it had been since she'd ridden. And by that time Samurai had already spurred his horse up the steeper path anyway. Riven frowned and merely shifted her weight forward as much as she could to help the big animal, who did not seem even seem mildly daunted. He was a young and eager stallion, a testament to the careful breeding of Demacian bloodlines. When at last they scrambled to the peak of the ridge, the charger lashed his tail and struck out almost immediately. Riven gasped, gripping the man's sides for her life and drowning in the mass of Ronin's hair. In a blink he lashed one arm back to grab hers, steadying her. He reined to temper the animal's enthusiasm back down to a trot.

"Sorry! He always knows when I'm going to let him run."

"I see that!" She gasped, clawing hair out of her face. "You know, I still don't mind walking."

Samurai pulled his horse to a dancing stop, turning in his saddle and laughing at the sight of her disgruntled and pawing the strands off herself. Ronin gathered his hair in his hands, deftly spun it into a quick, loose braid, and then tossed it back over his shoulder.

"Suffocating," she grumbled.

"We're going again. You ready?"

Riven merely let out an "Mmmmh," and grabbed his shoulders a bare moment before the animal lurched into motion again. With effort, she was silent. In light of the current situation the warrioress was tempted to recant her assessment of no awkward arm-wrapping. But her former years of equestrian mastery had not left her, and she allowed her body to move with the animal, squeezing with her knees and aligning her spine. Yes, that felt familiar. The steed thundered down the narrow path. Heart pounding, she removed one of her hands from his shoulder. The horse's gait was ridiculously fast, but smooth. The wind lashed by, roaring in her ears, her hair blowing back from her face. Riven breathed in, lifted her eyes to the world around them, and then stopped breathing. There was nothing but the path before them and on each side a vast expanse. They were atop a narrow ridge. Mountains rolled out for miles and miles and miles. Subconsciously her fingers tightened on his shoulder. There were clouds _below_ them. They were at the top of the world, sailing through the sky.

Riven clung with her knees, resolutely held herself upright rather than clinging to the other rider, and watched in roaring silence. It was the chill of the wind which finally caused them to slow. And then they were standing still, the horse's sides lathered and heaving as they quietly watched the clouds roll by. Riven hugged herself, heart racing in a giddy, exhilarated way, and watched as clean mountain wind swept by them from the side. The seconds ebbed by and they simply watched. Then Ronin squeezed his heels a little and they were moving again.


	9. A Plot Finally

Chapter 9

_A Plot Finally_

She was starting to get sleepy from the rhythmic bounce of the horse's movement when they finally plodded in to Jagarkot at about an hour and a half passed noon. Just outside the town they passed the clearing where fireworks were being arranged by the townsmen. They were working hard, sweating with effort to get all the rockets out and erected properly, yet the man in charged still took time to run up and welcome them.

"Welcome to Jagarkot!" one of the men said. "You've come to the right place for fireworks! You are staying for them tonight, aren't you?"

Ronin was not planning to stay, but they listened to him laud the charms of Jagarkot's fireworks, games, food, and dancing. Riven laughed, charmed at the apparent hospitality of the village, and told the men not to overwork themselves before they moved on.

When they rode into Jagarkot a couple of little girls ran up to them and held up necklaces of red leaves from the trees.

"Thank you. What is it for?" Riven asked, bending to accept the necklaces.

"For the festival," they grinned. "Wear it!"

When she put one on they smiled and ran off, looking for more travelers to bestow their gifts on. Riven draped the other one on top of the samurai's head.

"Look, they're all wearing them," she said.

There was a celebratory air about the place. The red leaves had been strung about everywhere, over doorways, across the street, under eaves and around trees. Petals were sprinkled in the road. People were winding up for the big evening, playing music, drinking, and preparing big meals in the kitchen. Jagarkot was a smaller town, but they seemed no less enthusiastic.

As they rode through the excited little village they received many more flowers, on the horse's neck as well. Ronin discovered than if he didn't put them around his neck people were just going to keep handing them to him, so he did. Waving to a pair of friendly strangers, Riven said,

"It seems nice. Where are you going tonight?"

"Well," he sighed. "I meant to get another village down the road before nightfall."

"Well surely you can't make it that far."

"I've got a few more hours of daylight. I can make it."

The woman shrugged and didn't say anything more about it then. While she looked for a room in the village he waited outside at the edge of a field, watching the villagers playing a game. It looked like about half the town was either playing or watching. Laughing, cheering. When Riven came back out to tell him she'd gotten a room, he stretched his hands behind his head and bid her farewell.

Riven's fingers curled around one of the long black strands of the horse's mane. She chewed her lip as he began to say, "So, good lu-"

"-Stay for a bit?" Riven turned her face up to him and smiled a little. "Let's watch this game and have a drink."

He didn't answer immediately but looked down at her with slightly upraised eyebrows.

"Well... I suppose I could graze Tempest here for a while."

Riven smiled and went to get their drinks. When she got back he accepted the drink with both hands and an Ionian downward bow of his head. After knocking his glass against hers he leaned over to look at hers.

"What is that?"

Riven glanced down at her mug.

"Just something that I like."

He peered closer, frowning.

"What is it? Is that juice?"

"I told you I don't drink," she sighed.

"Oh, Angel."

She frowned at him, tugging her drink away from his view. "Don't sound so damn disappointed."

Ronin rubbed his temples.

"I just don't... I can't even..."

"Shut up and watch the game."

The two of them sat in the grass and drank, piecing the game together bit-by-bit. Those big clouds soared over their heads against a bright blue sky. It was the kind of day where you wanted to sit in the grass and watch a game. After a good hard mountain-side gallop.

After a while a man from the tavern, rings of red flowers around his neck, came all the way out to ask if they wanted more drinks and to insist that they both stay for the dancing and fireworks. The samurai requested a couple more stouts despite Riven's protest. As soon as he left Riven piped up, "I hope you're willing to drink both those beers."

"Angel. You need this."

"I do not _need_ to drink."

"You do. You need to drink a lot more."

"_You _need to drink a lot less."

"This is going to fix all your problems."

"What th- that's the worst advice I ever heard! I thought you said you never give bad advice."

"That's not exactly what I said."

It was then that a bit of a commotion broke out. There was some heated conversation between a group of people walking down the road from the direction of the fireworks field. As the group approached, Ronin and Riven were privy to their conversation. They were right by the road, separated from the rest of the crowd. It was not hard to pick up what was going on. The mustached man they'd spoken to earlier was barking at one of the younger men he had been working with.

"And what did they carry them off in? You must have seen how they carried them!"

The younger man, maybe a teenager, was shaking his head. He seemed cowed and defensive under the barrage of questions. His voice was much lower, muttered, but they could pick up that he was not saying anything helpful.

"I just don't see how they did it so quickly," continued the mustached man. "We were gone for less than five minutes. How did they get every single firework in less than five minutes?"

The cowed man mumbled something in response, and the others present were all shaking their heads to some degree.

Riven looked at the samurai and muttered sincerely, "Well, that is a shame."

It was not much longer after that that the game seemed to conclude, and the winning team paraded around the field with much fanfare. Then the collection of firework workers along with several other men got up on a podium in front of the people and made the announcement that every single one of the beloved Jagarkot fireworks had just been stolen. The two travelers watched with curiosity as the scene unfolded. At first there seemed to be nothing but shock and sorrow. There were wails from the crowd, sighs. And then the shouting started. A few men raised their voices, demanding a culprit and asking details of the event. One of the older men, who was referred to as Mayor Narak, called for silence and order as the one man who had been on the scene when the robbery took place was pushed to the front. The young man took question after question, cowering even further under each barrage, but he never seemed able to say much more than "A few men jumped me and put a bag over my head. I didn't see what they looked like. They didn't talk at all. By the time the others got back and took the bag off my head, they were all gone. The robbers and the fireworks."

"But they must have said _something?_"

"No, nothing."

"What did they sound like?"

"They didn't say anything."

"What did they do?"

"They put a bag over my head and stole the fireworks."

"What did they feel like?"

"What?"

No matter how many ways the angry, befuddled, disappointed, reactionary crowd reposed the questions, the first basic statements were all they really got out of him. The two travelers watched, quite entertained.

The ronin leaned over to his companion and said,

"They're not asking the right questions."

Riven nodded.

"It's like they blame the kid cause he was the one there. But he needs to change his posture. He looks ashamed of himself."

"He's not ashamed. He's just overwhelmed."

She nodded and whispered back, "Exactly."

Finally someone raised their hand and asked, "Who else was there? I mean did you see anyone else around when you were settin up the fireworks?"

At this the two travelers nodded their heads in approval and said in unison, "Aaaaah."

This started a discussion. Each worker was asked to recount their version of events, and slowly the five men pretty much told the same story.

"They shouldn't have been allowed to hear each other's stories," Riven laughed. "If there are collaborators among them they all need to be questioned separately."

The story was basically that they had been working since morning. Not many villagers had visited them because they weren't supposed to see the rockets before the show. At about 2:30 one of the men had suggested that they go refill their canteens while one man, the youngest, was left to watch. When they came back the rockets were gone. A lot of travelers had passed them on the road to Narangkot. Very few had come in to Jagarkot from that way, but there had been two foreigners.

"Foreigners?"

"What kind of foreigners?"

Riven and Ronin looked at each other as the conversation continued.

"They both had swords. Big swords. They were on a big foreign horse."  
Two sets of foreign eyes darted around wildly, and more than a few sets of eyes were turning to them.

"And!" shouted one of the men, "And they suggested we take a break! That's when we left to refill our canteens!"

Riven's face hit her hand.

"Are they still here?" Asked Mayor Narak. "Is it those two over there on the edge of the field?"

Riven jumped up and cupped her hands to her mouth to be heard over the distance, "Hold on! We've been sitting right here with you since we got here!"

Someone said, "Leave them alone, they're telling the truth."

But the voice was small, and lacked strength. It was quickly overwhelmed by other anonymous statements like "They could be working with someone."

"They don't look trustworthy!"

"Look at their weapons! They look like highway robbers!"

"They should be questioned."

The samurai stood slowly, looking around with his thumbs on his belt. He was clearly bristled, but didn't say anything, his eyes dark.

"Don't you dare kill anyone," she whispered fiercely, seeing how he'd placed his hand near the hilt of his sword. "And say something!"

His voice was low, "All I'm gonna say is it's time to get out of here."

"Okay..." she sighed wearily, "but I hate that. This will just prove we're guilty in their minds._"_

Raising her voice to Mayor Narak she said, "You're not asking the right questions! You need to be talking to the guy who—" but her voice was drowned out.

More anonymous shouts, "Who else could it be?" There was a lot of loud yammering but "Spies," was the word that was passed around again and again.

"_No_, they're so _stupid!_" Riven bit out under her breath and literally pulled her hair with one had.

"Come _on _Angel," growled the samurai, pulling her by the back of her belt towards Tempest.

The horse jumped and skittered his hooves as some enterprising young villager darted forward to grab his reins. The villager tugged the horse away, running him towards the safety of the crowd.

"Get the hell away from my horse!" yelled Ronin, throwing off Riven's grasping fingers and dashing out with incredible speed.

Immediate shouts of fear and aggression came from the crowd as he flashed towards them. The samurai used his imbued technique to dash through the horse and seized the shocked man on the other side, landing a shiner on his jaw. Aaaand from there it was just over. The samurai leaped onto his horse, but bolstered by the courage of numbers the crowd had already hemmed him in. The pure ring of steel sounded as that long blade flashed out.

"Ronin!" Riven screamed as she ran towards him. "DON'T YOU DARE! DON'T. YOU. DARE!"

Tempest spun, fluffy-fetlocked hooves dancing in circles, but he couldn't break through the bolstering crowd. The samurai gnashed his teeth at the villagers.

"I'll kill you idiot simpletons!" he barked, pointing his blade as the horse reared back and lashed his hooves.

The people backed away, but the circle did not break, and blades were starting to come out towards him. Many of them had seen Ronin's imbued technique and were nervous, but fear in a mob quickly turns to unbridled aggression. Shit. The samurai disappeared off the animal, flying through the crowd like a mere wind in one blinding dash after another. His path was marked by a trail of screams and shouts, breathlessly fast. He made it to the edge of the crowd and broke free. His retreating footsteps were halted, however, when he heard,

"He's a demon! Kill his demon horse!"

"Kill it!"

There was a great commotion and uproar in that direction. Tempest was bleeding from his flanks and fighting wildly. Ronin turned, a glint of rage in his eye. The animal was a war horse, and was not easily frightened. The man lashed out his blade again.

"I swear I'll kill you! I'll kill you all if you kill my horse!"

Wind suddenly TORE over the treetops and rushed over the field, kicking up the man's ponytail and causing frightened screams throughout the people. They shielded their eyes; clothing snapped and fluttered in the gale, a few of the crowd scattering.

"Samurai, for godssake just drop your weapon!" yelled Riven over the wind.

She'd already dropped hers, and was being quickly apprehended. They weren't stoning her, they weren't beating her. They had just been holding her down until the wind kicked up. The fear turned them to hitting her. She didn't call out, she merely ducked away from the fists as best as she could.


	10. Must Be Some Damn Special Fireworks

I think it's important to note that at the end of this story neither of these characters are going to know who the other is. That is another story for another day, but unfortunately I probably will not be able to write it. They will, however, find out some unexpected things about each other.

Chapter 10

_Must Be Some Damn Special Fireworks_

"Angel! Defend yourself!"

She could have killed them. She could have killed them all, and so could he. With his blade raised they certainly weren't attacking _him_. He glared at the people, then he saw her take a solid one on the cheek, and he finally held his arms up.

"Okay! Okay, wait!" He held up the sword above his head, and the wind ebbed off to a breeze. "Wait, just calm down!"

It hadn't taken but a few seconds for the men in the crowd to regroup and surge around him again. The Ionian looked around at them, anger and disgust in his eyes, but he didn't bring the weapon to bare again. It would be so easy at this moment. So, so easy.

"Put the sword down!" they shouted.

"Make him drop it!"

He looked back towards Riven. They were twisting her arms behind her, grabbing her hair. She did not show pain, but her eyes pleaded him. He looked back at the villagers.

"_D__on't hurt them_," he said.

Mayor Narak had had a tall, burly man by his side who didn't look like he was from the valley, what with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and incredible stature. Until this moment he'd held his post by the mayor, but now he surged to the forefront of the crowd and roared at everyone to calm down. He then looked at Ronin and insisted, "Put down that weapon!"

Tempest was no longer screaming and lashing his hooves, but he was still dancing in circles and causing yells from the men around him. The samurai let out a long, low growl. Slowly, he set down his weapon.

Riven rolled her eyes.

"Stop looking at me like this is my fault."

Jagarkot didn't really have a jail. They had a leaky old cheese cellar that did the trick in just as dank and depressing a manner. The moldy smell of cheese was strong. At this moment it was an uncomfortably small space for her to be stuck with him in, and she sat against the opposite wall from him, as far away as she could get. About six feet.

"Oh, it's not your fault," said the man. "It's mine, for not leaving you when I had a chance. No, for bothering with you in the first place."

"Oh hush. We'll get out of this just fine."

"Angel your face is purple."

"Fine, I like purple."

Now the man rolled his eyes.

"You know. You're a lot more trouble than your worth."

"Well," she said with a small laugh hugging her legs a little tighter, "You're probably right there."

The samurai didn't respond for a while. Eventually he growled,

"Just fireworks. Stupid fireworks. I could have been in Jimili... in the next town by now."

"They would have had a reward out for you," she reminded him. "Don't pretend like you want the attention. I know you're running from people too. "

He glared at her in surprise.

"And what would make you say _that?_"

Riven raised her hands defensively, "Oh I'm not after your bounty, calm down. I figured it out is

all."

The man studied her in the dim light.

"Because you're running too, I presume."

"Yeah, you presume right. And I'd rather not be seen with someone slinging around a bunch of imbued techniques in front of an entire village. People will be talking all the way to Bandle City."

"Tsh," he seemed to dismiss her words with a smirk. "I would have been long gone from this valley by then. Maybe you wouldn't. Since you move like a turtle."

"If you hadn't gotten so aggressive we could have... oh," she shook her head and shrugged, "what does it matter? I'm not going to argue with you about this."

The two sat in the _drip... drip... drip... dripdrip _silence of the dank cellar for a while. At some point Riven said, "You know who was suspicious?"

Without a pause the man answered, "The guy who suggested they go fill their canteens."

"Yeah that guy. So shifty eyed."

"He gave way too many details in his story. And the way he talked like he was defending himself the whole time. It was so obvious."

"Well... they are... simple people," Riven said with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, simple people can still kill you if you let them Angel. There's no point in trying to talk to people like that. You're damn lucky."

"Well you know what?" she began, frowning with obvious frustration, "I'm fucking tired of being called the bad guy without anyone stopping to listen. I tried to make them listen for once. Fuck me." She leaned the side of her face back against the cold wall and shrugged, staring hard at the corner of the cell.

There was silence for a minute or two.

"Who cares what they think?" said the samurai a little more quietly. "People are idiots."

She shook her head slowly.

"I don't believe that. People are complicated. I know there's a way to make them understand."

"Angel, people don't give a shit about the truth." There was a note of something rueful in his voice, "Don't you know that by now? They just want what's convenient."

Her reply was quiet yet firm, as though she'd already been over the issue many times, "I'm not giving up."

The man stared at her for a long time, then sighed and leaned his head back against the stone. Riven wondered what he was thinking.

And. She wondered when the hell something was going to happen. They had been sitting there for hours. Her butt was numb. And her face throbbed where that scared idiot had punched her, and god... GOD she was hungry. Again.

She didn't know when she drifted off, but it is the worst feeling to be startled awake from a deep sleep. Least of all to wake on the dank, cold floor of a stone cellar with the smell of cheese, to the heavy clang of a sliding steel bolt. It felt close to midnight but there was no way to tell. The men who entered the room were large, thick-shouldered. There were the three who had dragged them here in the first place, including the huge blonde man, and three new faces as well. The six stood there for a moment, leering at the bleary prisoners who were shielding their eyes from the torch light.

"You," one of the crew pointed at Riven with a weird, crooked grin. "Come with us."

Riven was already half way to her feet, though certainly not to come with them. Ronin piped up

at them, "What for?"

"Oh, I don't need your help," Riven muttered as she glared hard at the men.

She stood strong but her back was edging up against the wall behind her. The man who had spoken pointed a thick finger at Ronin,

"You just stay where you're sitting," he commanded, even as Ronin rose.

Riven's companion looked at her, "I'm not trying to help." He turned his eyes to the men, "I just want to know what you're doing."

As he finished his frown deepened when one of the strong-arms quickly grabbed the back of Riven's arm and tried to usher her towards the door. She dug in her heels and he pulled harder, with the help of another man.

"Hey!" The Ionian dashed between them, causing the startled men to step off. He jabbed a finger at them and bristled as he barked, "Back off!"

Once the six glanced between each other and seemed to collate their resolve, the first man stepped forward again and clocked the samurai in the jaw. Riven took in a sharp, soundless breath.

"Easy, Kash," murmured the blonde.

The Noxian woman tried to flank him but Ronin merely took the blow solidly and edged black in front of her. She was frustrated, but felt some small relief that he wasn't rash enough to swing back.

"Ronin," she breathed by his ear, but was cut off as he tightened his fists and raised an arm to meet the aggressive approach of three of the men.

The blonde got a grip on him and Ronin took a few more hits as a couple of others went to grab Riven again. She skittered nimbly away from them.

"Hey!" He wrenched himself from their grip and again cut in between Riven and the men. "Don't touch her!" He leveled a firm gaze at them and intoned, "What do you need?"

A couple of the men glanced at the blue-eye, who pointed at the Ronin.

"Okay. You come."

Ronin responded immediately by diminishing his posture, and despite the rough grip on his arms the man went with them easily.

"_Ronin_," Riven quick-stepped to his side, but what could she do?

The man merely smiled at her and muttered, "Just a bunch of village goons," before being ushered out.

Riven looked with concern at the huge man. The tip of her companion's cape was pulled out of her fingers as he moved away, and then she was left standing alone with the heavy clank of steel ringing in her ears.


	11. WTF is Happening?

Chapter 11

_WTF Is Happening?_

Riven waited a long time. A really long time. It must have been the wee hours of the morning when she was awakened again by the sound of the door. Two of the men walked in.

"Get up," he said. "You've been released."

"Released?" She got up.

"Yeah," grumbled the man. "So get out of here before I change my mind."  
"He can't change his mind," said Ronin's voice from outside. "The order came from higher up."

"You shut up, snake," grumbled the man.

When Riven walked out, baffled, she saw her companion standing there looking slightly disgruntled.

"You okay?" she asked.

The door was shut loudly behind her.

"I'll be fine as soon as I get my things back. Let's go."

Riven felt relieved as they were hustled upstairs, but uneasy.

"What _happened_?" she whispered.

For a few moments he didn't answer, causing Riven's brow to wrinkle.

"Later," he said.

They were taken to a padlocked holding room where at last they were able to pick up their packs, weapons and armor again. But as soon as she caught sight of their belongings, Riven's body went into a silent panic. As naturally and quickly as possible she covered her iron shoulder guard with her leather one and then pretended to be more occupied with reuniting herself with her beloved weapon. Someone had torn the cloth wrapping off her iron guard where she had covered up the worn Noxian crest. Had the samurai noticed? Had they told him? Surely they would ask him why he, as an Ionian, was keeping company with a Noxian? As she glanced up at the man she saw that he was engrossed in his sword, examining it and its scabbard closely.

"These dim-wits had no idea what they were holding," he muttered under his breath.

Still her mind raced to come up with an excuse.

_'I bought this armor.' _Or, _'I took it off a Noxian bounty hunter.'_ Perhaps that would be the best choice.

Was it her imagination or was he eying her as she secured her shin guards? Riven glared at the village men as they barked at the two to hurry up. Neither she nor the samurai acted very rushed at all as they pulled on their armor and secured their weapons, disregarding the men with a smirk. The villagers grumbled, but knew they were powerless now.

"I'll carry the rest," she told Ronin, tucking the shoulder guard under her arm.

He didn't answer, merely looked back as he buckled on his own shoulder plates. Riven's heartbeat kicked up a notch as she met his eyes, but she had complete control over her exterior. She forced herself to stop studying his expression and said casually,

"Let's get out of here."

When they were finally tossed out of the building and left in the street, the samurai rubbed his hands over his arms in the chill.

"Angel, they said you can stay in the room you reserved earlier."

"Wow, they've really changed their tone huh?" she muttered, reaching for her satchel, "Looks like they left the key in here."

"Can I stay with you?"

There was a hint of pleading in his eyes and Riven huffed a soft laugh of surprise.

"Of course. You don't need to ask."

Her reply was sincere but foreboding filled her gut. She stepped up to him to give him a closer look, brushing a hand over his shoulder.

"You sure you're okay? What did they do?"

He shook his head.

"I'm fine. They just questioned me."

Her instincts did not entirely agree, but was it something that had happened to him or something he knew about her?

"So... they just believed you huh?"

"_I guess_. Let's just go. They've put Tempest in the stable of the inn and I want to look at him immediately. Then sleep and be rid of this place at first light."

"Okay. Come'on," she gave his elbow a gentle tug.

Though he'd said she may as well go ahead to the room, Riven came with Ronin to the stable. All other questions aside, she didn't feel like leaving his side at the moment. She saw relief in his face and shoulders as soon as he caught sight of the animal, and watched him quicken his pace to the stall. The big black horse pricked up its ears at the sound of his voice and and reached its nose towards its master with apparent eagerness. Poor thing, it must have been very confused to be abandoned.

Riven eyed the samurai, looking for signs that he had been injured or abused in any way. To think that he had taken her place. Her emotions were confused. She didn't know what she would do if they had put him through some kind of torture instead of her. The guilt would be overwhelming. Still, even more heavy in her mind was that she knew some of the villagers had to be aware she was Noxian. Or... perhaps they hadn't recognized the crest? Was that possible? If they'd told Ronin what she was then he would know _exactly _why she had been to Ionia. He would have every reason to kill her. In fact, he would have a duty to kill her.

Ronin greeted his animal with a look of concern, scratching behind its ears and speaking softly to it in Ionian. He stroked Tempest and leaned his forehead against the horse's. Riven caught one of the only Ionian words she knew and needed to know. "Sorry." She supposed the two had probably come a long ways together.

While he was distracted Riven quietly removed a roll of cloth from her bag and wrapped it around her shoulder guard before securing it to her shoulder.

The man couldn't see much in the moonlight from the stall windows, but he examined his animal carefully and gently. Tempest had wounds and much dried blood, but as far as he could tell it was all superficial. Still Ronin had a few very harsh words to mutter about the villagers as the two travelers left the stable.

It was so difficult to tell his mood towards her. Though they were both intent on the idea of sleep, they ended up standing together on the roof of the inn for a while in the breeze. It seemed at any rate they were both glad to be free of the smell of cheese. Riven eyed the man, trying not to be obvious. The idea of locking him out of the room was unconscionable, yet it could be her own life she was saving.

Riven wanted to scream. She wanted to throw her shoulder guard off the roof. Or at him. Or at herself. The man was merely staring out at the mountains, breathing slow and steady.

"Ronin," she said softly. "Tell me what happened while you were gone."

He sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and finally said, "They didn't do a lot of questioning, actually." At further prodding he shook his head and said, "I told them the truth. They didn't really listen to anything I said. Just kept threatening me. Then they left."

"They left?"

"Yeah. Left me there for a long time."

"Alone?"

He didn't answer.

"Did they leave you alone?"

"Look, I'm tired," he sighed, "And I'm damn hungry and I've had about as many questions as I can handle for the night."

Her eyes narrowing slightly, she nodded.

"Are you okay?"

"I already told you that!"

She was quiet for a while, and then she moved closer to him.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" she asked a little more softly.

"No."

She put a hand on his shoulder, and he brushed it off.

"Look, it's not like that. They didn't torture me or anything. It was just weird."

She studied his face in the gloom.

"Weird?"

He made a frustrated noise in his throat.

"Yeah weird. Now leave me alone."

Riven stared at him. She swallowed hard and looked around.

"Okay," she sighed.

She walked behind as they headed back down the stairs towards room number 10. Everything was quiet. Even the insects seemed to be asleep at this hour. There was certainly something heavy on his mind, that much she could sense easily. And then, her feet three paces behind his, Riven did the only thing she knew to do. She drew her weapon.


	12. It Was Wierd

Chapter 12

_It Was Weird_

Instantaneously, the moment her sword left her back, he spun and lashed his own weapon out, knocking hers aside, and then cocked back for a followup strike. Riven whipped her blade back in between them in a defensive stance, and then neither moved. They stared at each other, tensed, adrenaline pumping. The eyes of that man chilled her. No anger, no surprise, no fear. Only cold, calm, focus. Focus on driving his blade straight into her heart.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and she didn't have to fake the startled, uneven voice.

"The fuck are _you _doing?" he growled back.

She stared hard at him, at the eyes of a killer.

"You haven't taken your attention off me even for a moment," she breathed, shaking her head. "I was only getting ready to take off my weapon and armor."

He stared back at her just as hard. Riven spoke again, "You'd kill me in a heartbeat, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would, if I have to." His voice was low. "You know this life."

"I wasn't trying to kill you."

Indeed, of course, she only wanted to judge the man. Too see how wary he was of her. Now she didn't know what to do.

"I told you if you tried, yo would never lift a blade again," he said.

"I didn't try." Her voice was calm now, but every fiber of her being was tense. "I was just taking off my sword to put by the bed because we've arrived at our room."  
True enough, the handle of room number 10 was two steps away.

"Are you an idiot?" He raised his voice, the cold calm coming off a little to be replaced by blessed anger. Riven was relieved as he continued, "Why the fuck would you draw your blade behind by back?"

"I'm sorry," she said softly, throwing everything on the line to lower the tip of her blade. "I'm tired. I wasn't thinking. I wouldn't hurt you, Ronin."

"Godamn fucking _bullshit,_" he snarled, scowling, and then relaxed his blade. As soon as Riven replaced her sword on her back he turned away. "I can't _believe_ you."

Riven's eyes slid closed and her shoulders sagged in a deep, silent sigh. Thank god he was angry at her. Furious, even, and more importantly he was surprised. Furious and surprised are not how a trained killer responds to an enemy. Trying to let her heart still, she quietly followed him into the room.

When they got inside the dark, quiet space, Riven set about trying to light a candle from scratch. The Ionian began unbuckling his armor by the window, scanning the outside the way a warrior habitually does.

"Take the bed tonight?" she asked, and he merely shook his head wordlessly.

She didn't feel like arguing with him about it. Riven sank down onto the edge.

"Sorry," he said suddenly.

The woman looked up, "What?"

His voice was a little tired, "For reacting so harshly. I'm edgy right now."

The apology was so unexpected that it took her a moment to answer.

"What's bothering you?"

He shook his head, "What happened back there was strange."

For a moment she thought he was talking about their confrontation, but then her thoughts turned to where he had been taken.

"Something they did to you?"

"Uh," he let out an uncomfortable sigh, laying his shoulder guard on a table. "not exactly. Sort of." Riven merely waited patiently until he continued, "There was a woman. A very strange woman. She... seemed like a witch doctor or something to me. But young."

He scratched the back of his head. Riven narrowed her eyes.

"You mean she was there with the men?"

"Not at first. She came in after we'd been there for a while. In a little room. They had me all tied down to a chair with so many ropes like they thought I was a goddamned gorilla." He rubbed his wrists with a frown. "And then that woman walked in and told them all to leave, and they did. Without question, just like that."

When he paused Riven looked around the room and rubbed her neck. She was worn out and she was still trying to get her head around everything that had happened that evening.

"What did she do?" she asked.

He paused half-way through unbuckling a bracer, "She just... sat down in front of me. On the floor." He grimaced. "And _stared _at me."

Riven shifted on the bed to turn more fully towards him.

"Stared? Just stared?"

"Just... just blank-face stared at me. For 15 minutes at least. She wouldn't say a thing. Ugh," he shivered at the thought, "she made me feel so strange."

It was new, seeing the man actually express his feelings towards her. It was a small relief, and she felt an extra bit of security from the gesture. She tried to imagine what could possibly have made his so uncomfortable.

"Strange like how?"

"I swear, it was like..." he shook head and began briskly working on his bracer again. "it felt like a corpse was staring at me."

Riven tilted her head to the side and frowned.

"You're kidding."

He just shook his head again. The woman sat with her hands folded on her lap.

"And then what?"

The man sighed.

"She started asking me questions. But strange questions, nothing to do with the fireworks." He set his bracer on the table and began working on the other one. "She kept asking me whether I serve any deities. Where I got my "power." How I command the wind. "

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, those kinds of things. She wanted to know everything about my techniques."

"That doesn't seem so strange."  
He thunked the other bracer down.

"She was fucking strange."

"Just the way she seemed?"  
"The way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she sounded..."

"Well did you tell her what she wanted to know?"

"I told her some things."

Riven raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You told her about your techniques?"

_"Some _things."

"_Why?_"

He looked at the floor.

"I just wanted to get out."

"I'm confused," Riven said. "What are you not telling me?"

The man pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and then ran them back over his head in frustration. He remembered the woman's face too clearly. Slowly, in only the barest details, he told Riven what had happened.


	13. The Memories

Chapter 13

_The Memories_

The washed-out, somewhat unkempt hair, the pale skin. And those blank, gray eyes. He hated the eyes. They bored into him like she was reading every thought, like she was crawling into his head to find the easiest way to kill him.

Her voice was a whisper. She only whispered her questions, but with a kind of... _hunger, _"Give me the secrets." Her narrow red tongue flicked over her lips. "Give me the incantation. The path."

Though she was several feet away from him, the man recoiled his head a little.

"There is no incantation," he said with a frown.

His face maintained a hard composure but his eyes moved to the door in hopes that the men would be returning through it. When she started to inch towards him the samurai could feel his heartbeat kick up a notch.

"I demand a gift. The path," she said, "what is the path to the power?"

She looked young, but she didn't seem young.

"The path is discipline. I can't teach you this," he bit out, "Teach yourself."

He was sure his composure must have faltered for the barest moment when she touched his knee and smiled.

"You can teach me."

"I can't." When her fingers continued to creep up on his leg he strained against the ropes to shake them off and added quickly, "It takes many years, and even then no one else has learned these techniques in a generation."

Her thin smile crept up further, "Then you are very powerful."

He glared at her.

"So what if I am?"

Her fingers roamed.

"I like your power," she said. "Give me a gift."

This was a most unfortunate situation.

"I don't have a gift for you. Perhaps I'll show it to you if you don't let me go," he growled, voice betraying him only in the way his words sped up as she put a hand on his other leg.

"I demand a gift."

"I don't have a damn gift!"

The woman watched him wordlessly again as her thin fingers crept over his thighs, and he looked back with clear hostility. Then she stood, giving him only very brief relief as she paced slowly around behind him. Every hair on the man's body stood up when she touched his neck.

"How do you discipline yourself?"

"It can't be explained," he replied stiffly.

"You are lying."

She scraped her fingernails down his back.

"These things have to be _experienced,_" he growled, baring his teeth. "I can't _teach _you."

Her hands made their way back up under his cape, over his shoulders, and the samurai's eyes darting around the room wildly.

"Stop _touching _me," he hissed, and then swallowed hard when she covered his eyes with her hands.

Her clammy hands were strong, and would not be removed. The Ionian jerked as the dark void of his vision was filled with images. Visions of his own memories. His voice caught in his throat; he couldn't speak as half-remembered things were played back to him clear as day. Memories of his training days is what he told Riven later, but he didn't tell her everything.

At this point the man shrugged and said, "That was... that was pretty much all. After she looked at my memories she said she couldn't learn my techniques."

Ronin had relayed this to Riven only in the most basic way, but the events were clear enough to her.

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Then they let us go."

Riven huffed in disbelief.

"How very _strange_. To think that that level of sorcery is hiding in a village like this."

The man shook his head tiredly.

Riven's mouth tugged back ever so slightly at one corner, "So you didn't have to give her a gift, huh?" The way he glanced at her made the woman tilt her head. "Or _did _you?"

He lifted his hands, "They let us go, okay? What else matters?"

Well _that _certainly didn't make her any less curious. What a poor deflection.

"What the hell else _happened_?" she tilted her head to the side with a dramatic expression. "You can't just leave me with that!"

"Why can't I?"

"Because," she couldn't keep a belying smile from cracking her face, "now you've left me in suspense, that's why."

The samurai crossed his arms, "This isn't a bedtime story."

Riven's eyebrows went up. "Well it's the best one I've had in a long time."

"You're _entertained _by this!"

Riven looked away and covered her mouth, trying not to smile.

"Well my god, Ronin, it's quite a story. I can't believe they sent in a creepy horny woman to get into your head. And _onto _you I guess."

"This isn't funny!" he snapped.

She gave him a helpless look., "I'm starting to assume the worst of this _gift_."

Ronin let out a short noise of frustration and paced around the room. They way she'd looked at him when she demanded her offering still gave him goosebumps.

"I want you to know," he said, "That she refused to release me _or you_ until she was satisfied."

Riven couldn't believe where this story was going.

"_So what did you give her?_" she asked in a somewhat bewildered way.

She waited, and when he didn't answer, she pressed her fingertips to her chest.

"_Ronin. _You didn't..."

"NO."

She craned her neck around in an exaggerated eye-roll.

"Then _what _for godssake?"

"A kiss, alright?"

"A... kiss. Is that really what has you so on edge? She kissed you?"

Ronin raised his shoulders, grasping the air in frustration with his fingers, "She had a _tongue _like a _snake! _It was in my _throat!_"

"Uuugh," Riven recoiled with her hand to her mouth.

Perhaps at any other time she would have seen this situation differently. Perhaps she would have taken it more in stride, behaved more like a field commander. But at that moment, as tired as she was, after being filled with such tension and being so damn _worried _about this man, she simply fell over on the bed and buried her face in the mattress to muffle her laughter.

"Oh, fuck you," he muttered.

Riven regained control over herself and pushed off the bed to finally finished taking off her armor. She was still breathing hard to try to still her laughter.

"No, no, you're right," she said. "I'm sorry she kissed you."

The man grumbled something incoherent in response. Riven set her sword and shoulder-guard by the bed, saying, "I'm glad it was you and not me."

He snorted and leaned against the window. The woman smiled over her shoulder at him, free of her armor, and walked over to where he was standing.

"Oh come on, it could have been a lot worse."

"Well they tied me in a strange position and now my back is sore as hell."

Her smile turned a little devious before she pouted her lips.

"Awww, I'm sorry."

He rubbed a hand over his arm and rolled his head to the side.

"Just shut up," he said with the smallest, laziest half-smile. "I'm not happy."

Riven understood that it had probably been a very unpleasant situation. To think of someone digging through her memories like that really was a shuddering thoughtt. Aside from her own enjoyment, she felt like teasing him might get his mind off things. She bit her lip and smiled again, bending forward a little to see his face.

"You really don't like to be out of control of a situation, do you?"

He turned and stepped toward her, causing her to back up a pace before he pushed a hand against the wall on either side of her. Riven's smile vanished, and immediately she became cautious of what he knew about her again. He lowered his voice, "Do you?"

Ronin smirked at her and she frowned up at him, bristling at the claustrophobia. The man was so much bigger than her. He blotted out her entire view.

"Well I don't think anyone does," she said in an equally low tone.

"You might if you tried."

She stared up at him, eyes darting between his and feeling suddenly so much less in control than she wanted to. His voice was serious, yet calm, "You know you frustrate me."


	14. 2 month hiatus blugh

Hey all, thanks a lot for your support. This story has kind of been my baby this summer. So, worst update ever! I've got to go on 2 month hiatus for boot camp. I tried so hard to get all the chapters revised before now but I ran out of tiiiime I will be back to post the rest. Sorry guys I know it suks when authors do this. But anyway, once again, if you liked the cover image or wanna get a lil more OTP you can visit my gallery on .com. I'll be back. I pwomise. Many thanks for all the comments, they really keep me going.


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